The Inheritance (43 page)
Looking sternly in her direction, he straightened his notes and slipped them back into the folder, then made parting comments McKenna only half heard.
She closed her eyes and tears spilled over. How could God possibly be in this decision? Was she that horrible a parent? The answer came back swiftly as she pictured Robert arriving in Denver and being led to his jail cell.
Oh Janie . . . I’m so sorry.
McKenna stood, clutching the pew in front of her, grateful she hadn’t eaten anything for lunch. She looked beside her, expecting to see Wyatt, but he wasn’t there. Somehow she’d missed him leaving.
Both Mr. Billings and Harrison Talbot briefly met her gaze before walking from the church. Dr. Foster made his way toward her, his eyes filled with remorse. “Miss Ashford, I’m stunned, and so very sorry. I want you to know that I spoke to the judge privately on your behalf, and will do so again before he leaves town this afternoon. Emma Talbot should be with you. That’s what Janie wanted. That was her last wish.”
She tried to choke out a thank-you, but could only nod.
His hug was unexpected, and it was all McKenna could do not to crumble into a heap on the floor.
When Dr. Foster took his leave, she noticed Wyatt near the pulpit speaking to Judge Hawkins. If there was anyone she would want to plead her case, it would be Wyatt. But not even the word of a U.S. Marshal would change Judge Hawkins’s mind. Much less, his verdict.
W
anting to see Emma, needing desperately to hold her, McKenna slipped from the church, leaving Wyatt to speak with Judge Hawkins in hushed tones. Shaking, she half-walked, half-ran to the Chinese Quarter.
She knocked on Mei’s door, short of breath, and was tempted to take Emma right then and flee Copper Creek and never come back. They could go somewhere far away from here, where no one knew them. They could start over and—
Even as the thought took shape, she realized how foolish it was. She couldn’t abandon Robert that way, even though for a time, he’d been “taken” from her by Wyatt’s decisions. Yet how could she live apart from Emma, this child she loved like her own? And how would she ever come to terms with not keeping her promise to Janie?
Mei opened the door, her beautiful almond eyes full of hope. McKenna didn’t have to utter a word, to see Mei’s hope drain away.
“It not be true,” Mei whispered, then took McKenna’s hands in hers. “You good mother. She your child!”
McKenna lifted her shoulders and let them fall. “The judge doesn’t think so.” She tried to stem the tears for Emma’s sake, but still they came. “He says Emma must go and live with someone else.”
“Aunt Kenny?”
Emma came barreling around the corner. McKenna quickly wiped her tears, then bent down and scooped her up. Normally, she would have scolded the child for running in the house, but this afternoon she only held Emma close and breathed in the precious girl’s scent—lavender, sunshine, and . . . moon cake. McKenna kissed her cheeks and felt crumbs at the corners of Emma’s mouth.
“Miss Mei made us cookies to take home, Aunt Kenny.”
“And did you eat one?”
“No.” Emma shook her head. “I ate two!” She giggled and hugged McKenna’s neck, and it was all McKenna could do not to start crying again.
She set Emma down. “Go gather your things. We need to get on home and do our chores.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Emma ran back down the hallway, and part of McKenna’s heart went with her. She heard steps behind her and turned.
Wyatt filled the doorway, his breath coming heavy. “I hoped . . . to catch you here.” He stepped inside. “Chin Mei.” He bowed.
Mei reciprocated. “Marshal Caradon,” she said softly.
McKenna read hope in his eyes, which seemed incongruent to the day.
He stepped closer to her and reached for her hand. “McKenna . . . I have some news . . . from the judge.” He glanced at their clasped hands, and moved closer still. “If I had my way, I’d give you more time to make this decision, and I’d do it all right and proper.”
A wry smile tipped his mouth, and she stared, confused.
“Then again . . .” He laughed softly. “I’m not sure I’m that patient of a man, especially when it comes to you.”
He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it—once, twice— and despite the turmoil inside her, McKenna thought of their shared moment back in the church foyer, and a shiver stole through her.
“I’ve spoken with Judge Hawkins, McKenna, and he’s agreed to rescind his ruling about Emma . . .”
Her breath caught, wanting to believe this but unable to. “You were able to change his—”
He held up a hand. “But only if you marry.”
“Marry?” she whispered, not understanding.
“Before he leaves town . . . in one hour.”
H
aving anticipated the drop of her obstinate, enticing little chin, Wyatt didn’t dare let go of McKenna’s hand. “If you choose not to marry now but want to wait, which Judge Hawkins says is an option, he’ll go ahead and submit his ruling. Then you’ll need to travel to Denver and file an appeal, appear before a judge there, and have another hearing in coming weeks.”
McKenna stared, wide-eyed and wordless, while Mei stood off to the side, her head bowed, with a demure smile bunching her cheeks. Wyatt wished McKenna would smile, would cry, would do something to let him know what was going on inside of her.
He reached for her other hand and held them both between his. “And in case it’s not clear to you . . .” He smiled, wanting to take her in his arms and kiss her again, maybe try and help her decision along. “I’m the one you’ll be marrying. Unless you have someone else in mind.”
Lord, please let her say yes . . .
With a nervous laugh, she lowered her eyes, her grip on his hand turning viselike. She glanced down the hallway, then back at him. “Would I be able to keep Emma with me? If I waited?”
Wyatt tried not to take the implication of her question too personally, yet felt a slight sting. He knew she was scared to death. And she’d been through fire today. First with finding out that he’d transferred Robert, then with Judge Hawkins. And now this . . .
Several times he’d wanted to take Judge Hawkins out behind the church and show the man a different kind of justice. But he also knew that if God had wanted McKenna in another situation, He could have arranged it. As hard as Wyatt had found it to sit there and listen to her answer Hawkins’s questions, to witness her ability and even her character be called into question, he’d sensed God restraining him. And he’d found himself praying the same prayer for her that he’d prayed for Robert, and that he prayed for himself.
He shook his head. “If you chose to wait, Emma will be temporarily placed with a family in Denver. One experienced with assisting in situations like these. Hawkins said you could visit her though, on occasion.”
With each passing moment, he grew more certain about his love for her. And as the frown deepened on her face—less certain about her affection for him.
“Mr. Wyatt!” Emma came at him at breakneck speed down the hallway.
He caught her up and hugged her tight. She kissed his cheek, and Wyatt glanced at the clock on a nearby table. Thirty-five minutes and counting until Hawkins boarded the Denver stage.
“Mr. Wyatt, can we have dinner tonight? You promised, ’member?”
“I do remember, little one. And I’d like that . . . very much.” He looked at McKenna and saw her watching the two of them. “But that all depends on what your Aunt Kenny says.”
Emma’s expression turned pleading. “Can we, Aunt Kenny?
Please
?”
Wyatt had never seen so many varied emotions flit across a young woman’s face.
McKenna slowly drew herself up. She smoothed the front of her dress and offered a brave smile that might have appeared convincing—if not for the tremor in her hands.
“All right,” she said finally, her tone none too confident. “We’ll have dinner with Mr. Wyatt—”
Squealing with delight, Emma hugged his neck.
“—after he and I visit with Judge Hawkins.”
“Marriage is a holy institution.” Judge Hawkins pierced McKenna with a look. “Not to be entered into lightly.”
She lowered her gaze to the open Bible in his hands and tried to recall some of the scriptures she’d recently committed to memory. Wyatt shifted beside her, and suddenly her mind went blank. She sensed he was watching her, but she didn’t turn. Doubt bombarded her from all sides. This was happening too quickly. If only she had more time to consider her options.
But there were no other options.
“The union between a man and woman is to be entered into with all reverence and consideration . . .”
She kept her eyes on the floor, focusing on a portion of a wooden plank that had soaked in more of the stain. It was darker and stood out from the rest.
They’d found Judge Hawkins waiting for the five o’clock stage to Denver, just where he’d told Wyatt he would be. Yet he’d appeared none too pleased when he saw them coming. When they first arrived back here at the church, Hawkins attempted to speak with her alone, but Wyatt had circumvented the man’s efforts. “If you have something to say, I’d appreciate it if you’d address us both, Judge Hawkins. Since we are to be husband and wife.”
Husband and wife . . .